II
Interlude: Owen
II
This is how a childhood ends, Owen learns – in fire.
They are just camping, he and dad. Camping out in the forest, like they have so many times before. Such a perfectly ordinary thing.
Such a terrible extraordinary day.
When the fire comes from the sky, dad holds him and whispers that it will be all right. Owen doesn't believe that. The light is too bright, the flames are too high, the sound is too loud. Even a child knows that is far from all right.
He's terrified. He's always thought dad could protect him from anything, but he doesn't think even a million fathers could protect anyone from this.
Dad looks terrified too, and that scares Owen as well. He's never seen dad afraid before. In fact, dad clings to Owen as much as Owen clings to him and they hold each other while the sky and the future burns.
It's dark afterwards, so very dark as the lights of the town go out. Fires begin to light up instead like candles, only candles made out of houses. Owen finally falls asleep to it, and wakes up several times during the night to hear his father sobbing.
In the morning, they find a woman among the trees, with burns along her body. Regina, she manages to tell them in a painful gasp. Regina Mills.
Owen wants to save her.
II
Chapter three: Walk the world, it stands still / you're the king of the hill
Rumpelstiltskin
II
A world without happy endings, Rumpel muses. It seemed like such an abstract notion, yet here he is, stuck in it. He was warned once that the future may not be what it seems. It appears to be true. This certainly isn't what he had in mind.
He will endure it nevertheless. He has to.
The sky is burning as he watches it, both from the sunrise and from the fires dotting the landscape and reaching for the sky. In all his years, he's seen a lot of death and destruction and darkness. (And even caused some.)
He's never seen anything like this. The end of the world – and yet the sun goes on shining. That there should be an after something as terrible as this seems almost beyond belief.
Mary Margaret Blanchard is stepping out into the morning light, he notices. He can tell she's cradling the baby and feeding it, and she blushes as she notices him looking.
Emma. Hearing that name was like the ending of another world, the illusion that he was simply Mr. Gold of Storybrooke. He is not. He is Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One – the only one who seems to remember who he truly is. Except Regina, if she's still alive in this world she brought them to. (And that one other that remembers.)
He isn't sure if he would actually like her to be alive or not. Sometimes, she's been useful to him and sometimes she's been a hindrance and sometimes he sees her and thinks of Cora and what might have been. Perhaps it would be poetic justice that the same curse Regina cast to end all happy endings would be her end, but it still somehow feels unsatisfactory.
Mary Margaret is looking every inch the protective mother as he walks over (having waited until she has finished feeding). It makes him wonder if there remains a sliver of Snow in her. They would all certainly fare better if that was true, he thinks.
Snow and Charming did somehow manage to find each other and their daughter, so perhaps there is something buried deep inside them that makes them feel who they are even if they don't remember. If there isn't, he'll have to force it out of them. He'll need them. Emma will need them, and he needs Emma.
"Good morning, Miss Blanchard," he says politely.
"Good morning," she replies. Looking slightly guarded. But then Emma makes a soft noise and Mary Margaret smiles down at her affectionately and all the guards seem down.
"Is Mr. Nolan awake as well?" he takes the opportunity to ask, leaning on his cane. The fact that David Nolan and Mary Margaret are sleeping in close proximity of each other hasn't been lost on anyone in the camp, least of all him. He sees. He always sees.
"No, I... Emma woke up, but I didn't want to wake David," she replies hesitantly. "He looked tired."
They all are, Rumpel thinks and see the fatigue in Mary Margaret's eyes too. It isn't just physical. Mentally, they're all exhausted.
"Wanting to protect him already, dearie?" he needles and registers the blush to her cheeks. "Along with that charming baby? I can help you."
"What?" she says, sounding confused at the sudden turn of topic.
"Weapons are the true commodity in this world," he tells her. "I have many. I can help you have the means to protect them both."
She looks torn between her schoolteacher sensibilities and the survivor in her, he can see from the changing expressions on her face.
"That's why you wanted David to take you to your shop," she says after a moment.
"Yes," he agrees readily. Getting weapons and other useful items was part of the reason, after all. It just wasn't the whole reason.
She glances down at Emma, and her face softens and then slowly hardens.
"What do you want from me?" she asks and he smiles, but not particularly pleasantly.
"You're already doing it, dearie. I have a vested interest in your and Emma's survival."
"Why?"
He could probably give her the truth – that he needs Emma to break the curse properly, that he needs the part of them that is Snow and Charming to get to that point, that he would prefer them to stay alive, that there is Belle too now – and she wouldn't believe him.
"I want a happy ending," he says instead; also a truth.
Mary Margaret doesn't look convinced, which isn't all that strange given the circumstances. Happy endings seem like such an impossible thing when even surviving is rife with such difficulty.
"Okay," she finally says, accepting his offer if not his reason.
As he leads the way, she follows behind with Emma still in her arms. He can see Leroy give them a suspicious glance, but Leroy is suspicious of everything. (A useful skill after the end of the world. A bit of a mood-killer the rest of the time.)
The room he has claimed inside the town hall is the mayor's office. Regina would hate that, which is half the fun of having it. His boxes are stacked high, stored here until he gets the chance to spread them around and store some of them elsewhere. (Without his magic powers he has to find other ways to secure his possessions – people will come for them sooner or later.)
Mary Margaret draws a sharp breath when he pulls out the bow and its quiver with arrows and then a gun.
"You'll need them," he says quietly. "Albert Spencer is already playing king on his little hill. There will be others. Nothing makes leaders out of people quite as well as war, and make no mistake, this will be one sooner or later."
"Is that what you're doing? Becoming king of your own hill and arming your soldiers?" she asks boldly.
"No, dearie," he says completely honestly. "Heroics and leadership are so frightfully dull. I prefer less direct ways of steering."
She mulls that over, her fingers closing around the bow. He watches as she lifts it and the quiver up, still with Emma in the crook of her arm. Mother and warrior in one.
"It's David," she finally says. "You're trying to make David the king."
"I'm not trying," he says. He's not. He doesn't need to, after all. David stepped into it himself. With the coma and the lack of false memories from the curse, Charming seems to lurk just beneath the surface of David Nolan.
"And me?" she asks.
He bows his head slightly as he would to royalty. Her eyes widen as if she catches the implication. Yes. Yes. A Queen. A King. A kingdom after the end of the world. A Storybrooke castle.
And Princess Emma growing into her destiny.
"Mary Margaret?" David asks breathlessly from the door. She turns around sharply, still holding the bow and the baby both. David looks completely mesmerized, and Mary Margaret can't seem to look away either.
A curse and the end of the world can't kill true love, it seems. If anything can besides death, he sure hasn't found it.
Belle, he suddenly thinks painfully and sharply. Oh, Belle.
"David," Mary Margaret says and Rumpelstiltskin snaps himself out of it and focuses on his two royal subjects instead. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you, but I didn't mean for you to wake up and see Emma gone and worry."
"It's fine," David reassures her as he walks closer. Rumpel notes with pleasure that the prince is in fact carrying the sword. "I knew you were taking care of her."
"Oh," Mary Margaret says. They look at each other, the longing so palpable that Rumpel is half tempted to ask them to just get it on already, on Regina's desk if necessary.
(Regina wouldn't enjoy that at all, so he rather thinks he would.)
"One of the patrols didn't come back last night," David says quietly. "Graham, Sean and I are going to the pharmacy to look for them."
"You think something has happened to them?" Mary Margaret asks, looking worried.
"Yeah," David admits. He glances over at Gold as well. "I imagine we might not be the only ones looking for medicines."
War, Rumpel thinks. Yes. It will come. Limited resources, people traumatized by so much death and yet so desperate for survival. Yes.
"I'm coming with you," Mary Margaret blurts out, seeming to surprise herself more than David. He simply smiles faintly, walking up to her.
"Emma needs you," he says softly.
"She needs you too," she protests and he looks down at Emma in her arms. He touches the baby's forehead almost reverently, then lifts his hand and cups Mary Margaret's cheek with the same reverence. The fact that Gold is there doesn't even seem to faze him. But then, Charming always was quite unafraid to show love, Rumpel remembers. Such bravery.
He envies that.
"You have a point there," David says after a moment. "I can't convince you to stay behind no matter what I say, can I?"
"No," she says and they both smile at each other. They look quite ready to kiss each other then and there, but David glances over at Gold again and then reluctantly steps away from her.
"You'll need this," Rumpel says, holding the gun out. David takes it, glancing at the bow in Mary Margaret's hand as well.
"Thank you," he says reluctantly. "I hope we won't have to use them."
With that, he and Mary Margaret walk out together, his arm so very carefully at her back. Rumpel watches them go before sitting down on Regina's desk and considering his options.
The curse isn't broken, which means he isn't sure if they can leave Storybrooke at all. Not that there would be much reason to. The post-apocalyptic grass isn't greener on the other side – it's probably just as covered by ash. So for however long it takes for Emma to break the curse (28 years, unless that is one part of the future he can change) they're stuck here and he won't be able to look for Bae.
He will have to help Snow and Charming create a kingdom here and he won't have magic to do it.
The part of him that is the Dark One chuckles at the challenge. The part of him that is a father longing for his boy just feels exhaustion.
Hmm. Age. That's another thing. The curse froze time for them, but does it still? It certainly didn't keep the end of the world out of Storybrooke, but perhaps it was never meant to.
He supposes they will find out sooner or later. None of them except Emma will age if it's true, since Emma wasn't affected by the curse at all.
Still, it won't hurt to make plans for either option. Contingencies. He hasn't plotted for three hundred years to not have back-up plans upon back-up plans.
He sighs, then puts on his Gold persona and walks out into the morning – only to almost stumble the moment he is outside and gets used to the light. Belle is sitting close by the entrance, watching the clouds and the smoke covering the sun.
"Hey," he says awkwardly. He's manipulated people for hundreds of years using words and yet he has no idea what to say to her.
"Hi," she replies, glancing up at him.
He debates walking away versus sitting down next to her, and ends on the compromise of standing a few feet away.
"Was I crazy?" she suddenly asks. Quite a brave question, he thinks, given how simple and straightforward it is.
"No," he says emphatically. Simple and straightforward in return, it's the least he can do for her.
She thinks about that and he watches the cuts and scratches along her arm. It's a reminder that she could easily have died and the thought of it makes him feel his age.
"You knew me," she says. Yes. He can't hide that, given the way he couldn't help but embrace her when he saw her. She was such a vision, such a ray of light in the darkness that he could hardly believe she was there.
"Yes," he agrees. "You weren't crazy. You made your own choices, Belle. You never let anyone decide for you. Some people fear that. They might even lock it away."
She mulls that over, but he can see she isn't entirely convinced.
"Do you fear that?" she asks.
"No," he says again.
She closes her eyes and he curses Regina silently – because he is quite sure it's Regina's doing that Belle was there, as well as the fact that Belle has no false curse memories. He isn't sure if that part is a good thing or not. Perhaps it would be easier for them both if she had a false life to cling to, if she didn't feel so much like Belle.
Or perhaps it would be just as hard or harder.
"I... I have some extra food stored away if you're ever hungry," he offers after a moment.
She shakes her head, and he knows that the Belle he remembers would probably have done the same and then insisted she would only accept food that was shared with everyone else.
"Anything else I can get you?" he tries, wanting to do something – anything - since he can't do what he longs for despite his increasing desire to.
"Books," she murmurs and he remembers Belle and the library in his castle. "All I can remember is what happened. It's all I know. I want... I want to read and fill my head with something else."
She closes her eyes and he can see the pain of her memories on her face. It almost staggers him as if it's his pain too.
"It's silly," she goes on.
"No," he says softly. "It's not. I know what it's like to want to forget."
Bae, he remembers. Bae's face as he let go.
"I might have some books," he says after a moment and her face lights up for a moment, like a glimmer of sun making it through thick clouds. "I have some clothes too you might be able to use. I have no use of them."
"I have nothing to offer you in return," she replies, looking at him doubtfully. "Leroy said you make deals."
"I do," he says, trying to think of a reasonable answer. A sudden idea pops into his head. "Read to me."
"What?"
"Read to me."
"That's what you want in return?" she asks softly and he nods.
"Yes," he says. "To help me forget."
She considers his proposal carefully, then nods. "It's a deal, Mr. Gold."
He nods too, keeping his face as carefully neutral as he can manage. "I have a few things to discuss with Mr. Nolan, but perhaps we can look for books and clothing for you later."
"Sure," she says, glancing over to where Ruby is approaching. "Ruby is going to fill me in so I can help out around the camp."
"I'll leave you to it," he says politely and walks off as calmly as he can manage. Only when he's well out of sight from her does he pause and draw a ragged breath.
He waits until he's perfectly composed again before going to find David, and ends up finding him by the truck. Not surprisingly, Mary Margaret is there too. She's strapped on her quiver and her bow, an echo of Snow White that would make him smile if he was at all inclined to show his true feelings. Sean and Graham are there as well, looking grim.
"Mr. Nolan," Rumpel says and David glances up at him. "I was wondering if I might ask you another favor."
David sighs, but sounds more tired than annoyed. "Yes?"
"If you should happen by the library on your way, perhaps you might secure some books for me. I know the building has collapsed on one side, but there should be plenty of books among the debris or in the half still standing."
"Books?" David echoes. He stares at Gold. "You want me to get books from the library?"
"Yes."
David blinks, then sighs again. "Right. Books. I'll see what I can do, Gold."
Rumpel bows his head lightly again, both genuinely and for show. Mary Margaret notices, Rumpel can tell, and she probably remembers their conversation earlier. He doesn't mind that she does. To protect her family (even if she doesn't remember that they are, she does feel it) she will accept his help even if she questions it.
"We better get going," David says. He holds out a hand to help Mary Margaret up on the back of the truck, and she takes it and doesn't let go. They're still holding hands as Sean drives the truck off, Rumpelstiltskin notes.
He waits until the truck is completely out of sight before he walks slowly down the street, then sharply turns a corner.
Jefferson is waiting there, looking twitchy.
"I got your 'present'," Rumpel opens with. "I found Belle at my shop."
Jefferson meets his gaze carefully. "I thought..."
"You thought seeing her again, I would fall to my knees in gratitude?" Rumpel mocks lightly. Belle would be disappointed in him over this, he knows. He did feel more gratitude than Jefferson could even imagine. He just can't afford to let it rule him. "I am grateful, dearie, but don't kid yourself. Our deal is far from done."
"How's Grace?" Jefferson breathes, a study in a father's desperation. Desperation. Always such a useful tool and motivator, Rumpel knows all too well. After all, it's driven him too.
"Your daughter is fine," Rumpel says, as if the topic bores him. "As I promised you she would be. How are things at Albert Spencer's hill?"
"It's not a hill," Jefferson says.
"Merely a figure of speech, dearie. What's he up to?"
"Trying to figure out what you're up to and if David Nolan is a threat," Jefferson says slowly. "He's managed to find a few weapons. They've found another uncontaminated water tank at the pet shelter but haven't retrieved it yet."
"So we may retrieve it before them," Rumpel says. "Don't worry, dearie. I'll make it look like we're simply looking for survivors. No one will know about our little spying arrangement."
Jefferson twitches again. "You promised me you would help her remember."
"Eventually," Rumpel says casually. "But you're not done being useful yet. What else?"
"Yesterday he sent a couple of guys to get what they could from the pharmacy," Jefferson says reluctantly. "They didn't return. He thinks it's your doing."
"The pharmacy?" Rumpel repeats. Well. That would explain a few things. "Is he sending another couple of guys to find out what happened?"
"No," Jefferson says. "He's got a couple of guys with him, but he's going himself this time."
Well, well, Rumpel thinks. David Nolan and Albert Spencer on a collision course even sooner than he anticipated. Only one way to deal with that.
Take advantage of it.
"I have a task for you, Jefferson," he says, and smiles unpleasantly.
Time to play a game of king of the hill – not all that different from chess, he's certain, and he's been playing that for centuries.